


Onward

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-07 12:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14671356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: After very tentatively spending time together for months, Mr. Gold and Belle move their relationship forward.





	1. Belle

**Author's Note:**

> In my headcanon both Mr. Gold and Belle are demisexual, but I also wanted to (separately) explore asexual!Belle and asexual!Gold, so here we are. 
> 
> Many thanks to Inkfire for the beta work.

Despite telling himself that he should be grateful for her company, which is indeed as delightful as always, Mr. Gold can't help but wish for more than just walking at Belle French's side.

Her smiles and kind words, and especially her gentle and seemingly casual touches, are so much more than an old and crippled beast like him deserves. And yet, as they stroll through the quiet and peaceful forest just out of town, he can't help but crave—well,  _more_.

Until a few months ago, he was convinced that regularly spending time with the wonderful librarian like this, just the two of them, was all he could ever want. But the urge to take her hand or place his on her waist has become almost overwhelming, and the flutter in his stomach when she beams at him as they reach a small river is undeniable.

Their friendship is by far the most valuable part of his life. But between their frequent dinners-for-two, their evenings spent reading side by side in his living room and the leisure activities that they share, his feelings for her aren't nearly as platonic as they once were.

"Let's sit down here?" she suggests as they reach a wooden bench that overlooks the rapidly streaming water.

He nods, forcing his restlessness away as they settle down. But rather than focusing on the lovely scenery, his gaze keeps flying back to her beautiful face.

Indeed, the ache he experiences whenever they are together like this, or even when he merely thinks of her, is the sweetest he has ever known—and immensely frustrating at the same time. Not being  _hers_  is becoming almost unbearable, but not as much as losing her friendship altogether, which would doubtlessly happen if he were to pursue her romantically.

The landlord used to be perfectly content with his solitary life. But these days he's getting increasingly bothered by the fact that he's spent more than half a century on this earth without knowing anything which might guide him in this highly delicate matter.

"I would like to talk to you," she says, suddenly looking rather tense.

"Of course," he responds, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he turns to face her.

"I would like to discuss our relationship," she continues softly, looking at him intently, as if gauging his reaction.

"You want to end this," he gasps, figuring that she must have sensed his longing for her… unless she just belatedly realized that she has been happily socializing with the town monster all this time.

"What? No! Is that what  _you_ want?"

"No, sweetheart, I very much  _don't_  want to end…"

The landlord freezes in shock when the term of endearment he has long refrained from using, if only barely so, slips out after all, right at such a critical moment.

"Is that how you feel about me?" she asks quietly as, to his delighted bewilderment, she reaches for his hand.

"It is," he whispers, that admission not seeming as scary and destructive as he feared.

Rather than disgust and rejection, there's happiness and relief on her face, as if she somehow felt the same way about  _him_ , of all people. But she still looks nervous, anxious almost.

"I… I love you, Belle," he adds, sensing that if there ever might be a moment to confess his feelings for her, this is it.

"I love you, too," she replies matter-of-factly, astonishing him utterly—but her tension doesn't decrease.

"What's wrong then?" he asks, the joy of this highly unexpected and incredibly stunning discovery almost entirely overtaken by concern for whatever it is that's clearly troubling her. "Talk to me, sweetheart?"

"What are your expectations for our relationship?" she asks in return, worsening his confusion.

"I… well, I haven't given that much thought. But I'd very much like to continue spending time with you the way we have—yet more frequently than before, if possible. I'd also really like to…"

He pauses, catching his breath and closing his eyes in reaction to the sudden onslaught of hopes and desires that surge up inside of him now that, against all odds, they may not be unrequited after all.

"What would you like?" she asks, still looking at him with apparent trepidation.

"I'd very much like to hold your hand," he responds, feeling both relieved and apprehensive to finally voice this. "Both when we're alone and in public."

"I'd like that as well," she answers, smiling and reaching for him.

"I'd also really like to snuggle… and to kiss," he adds with a pleasant shiver, encouraged when she takes his hand in hers, entwining their fingers.

"Me too."

"So far, it seems like we would enjoy the same things," he tries, his delight at their similar wishes overshadowed by whatever it is that still makes her so tense.

"What about sex? Do you also want that to be a part of our relationship?"

Mr. Gold stills at the mention of that word, as he finds himself imagining making love to her. The possibility had seemed utterly nonexistent, too perfect to consider or even fantasize about. But now that being intimate with her no longer appears so impossible after all, he can't refrain from groaning out loud in response to the variety of images his mind conjures—and his body's reaction to them.

"You want to sleep with me," she concludes, loosening her grasp on his hand—but not letting go entirely.

"I want to be part of your life, more than anything else. To hold you and kiss you—only if you  _want_ that too, of course. Eventually, I'd very much like to make love to you, if you'd like that as well. But I'm not really expecting you to. I  _know_  that I'm… me. I'm only too aware of what I look like, so…"

"Oh Rum, it's not because of  _you_."

The way she speaks his monstrosity of a first name, making it sound like a blessing rather than a curse, reassures him like it always does. Even more, she embraces him like she never has before, locking her arms behind his neck and pulling her chest flush against his.

" _Belle_ ," he breathes, still not understanding what's going on, but very much enjoying this particular development.

"You're the most handsome man I know," she says fiercely, leaving no doubt about her meaning, even to him. "If there were anyone I'd like to have sex with, it would be you."

"But you don't want that," he concludes, becoming more curious than anything else by now.

"I… I'm not sexually attracted to anyone. Not even you, despite being in love with you. I want to be with you, have a relationship with you. A romantic relationship, that is. Not a sexual one. Do you… could you be interested in that?"

"Being in a romantic relationship with you would make me very, very happy," he answers, smiling at her as he continues to hold her hand.

"That would be such a joy for me as well," she replies, shifting yet closer to him and looking a whole lot less worried. "So what you're saying is that you'd like us to be together as a couple, and you wouldn't mind if sex wasn't part of that relationship?"

"I would wish for nothing more, yes. Being with you in any way at all is more than I could ever have asked for."

"You don't need to ask," she emphasizes, squeezing his hand. "And I want you to know upfront, if you should ever be interested in having sex with someone else, that's something we can talk about in case…"

"No, sweetheart,  _no_. You're the only person… I'm not interested in sleeping with anyone but you. And if you don't want that… I want whatever  _you_ are willing to share with me."

"I must say I'm very relieved to hear that," she admits, her eyes glistening.

"You're the only one for me, Belle," he whispers, tentatively reaching for her in a clumsy attempt to express his happiness at being able to tell her this.

She nods in response to his unspoken question, beaming at him through her drying tears. Mr. Gold reverently brushes his fingers along the dark curls he has admired so fervently, barely able to believe that she just invited him to touch her.

"And you're the only one for me," she murmurs, snuggling against him.

He sighs and closes his eyes in sheer bliss as he rests his face against the crown of her head, gratefully breathing her in.

"Will you tell me what you would or wouldn't like me to do?" he asks, his face buried in her hair. "I don't ever want to make you uncomfortable."

"Of course. I really appreciate that, you have no idea how much. Your support means the world to me."

"Sweetheart, can I ask… did someone hurt you in the past? Is that why you don't want to…"

"No, thankfully, it's not like that. I just… the prospect of sex doesn't appeal to me.  _At all_. It never has. I tried, with my ex-fiancé, but… well, let's just say it was one of the reasons our engagement ended. Even when I imagine you and I in such a situation, though… it just doesn't arouse me, no matter how much I want to be with you in every other way."

She lowers her head a little, glancing up at him from behind her hair, which is now falling like a curtain around her face. It's clear that she doesn't expect him to accept what she's saying, or even believe it. He reaches for her beautiful curls, questioningly brushing them aside in a clueless attempt to console her. To his relief, she continues speaking.

"Sex has never been an important part of my life, or any part at all, really. At first I thought I'd be more interested in it, that I could enjoy the process with someone I'm actually in love with. But even with you… it just doesn't work like that for me. I  _am_  attracted to you, but only in a romantic way."

"I think I understand," the landlord offers, considering her words. "It has been years,  _decades,_  since I last met anyone I wanted to be with in any way. Only when I got to know you… I know that's not the way you feel, but…"

"A lot of people don't feel like that at all."

"Exactly."

His words seem to have encouraged her, if her ever-widening smile is any indication. He feels more certain as well, marveling at her acceptance of his general lack of interest in romantic and sexual entanglements—so unlike the way his ex-wife would doubtlessly have reacted, had he actually been able to talk to her about such things.

"I'm not saying that I don't ever want to experience any physical intimacy with you. There's quite a gap between bare skin and fluids and all sorts of body parts fitting together, and… wandering fingers over still clothed bodies."

" _Sweetheart,_ " he groans, the mere suggestion setting his usually so composed being aflame.

"I don't really know yet what I do and do not want on that spectrum exactly. But I'd very much like to discover that with you."

"There's nothing I'd rather do," he murmurs, practically breathless at the prospect of sharing this journey with her.

"I love you," she breathes, sounding so much happier than when she first said these three words.

"I love you, too."

"Can I kiss you?"

" _Definitely._ Although I should warn you that I'm hardly an expert, and…"

She halts his words by kissing him firmly, the pressure of her mouth against his putting an abrupt end to his self-doubts. Her enthusiasm is undeniable and he happily parts his lips when she coaxes him to do so, their tongues meeting for the very first time.

Belle gasps into his mouth, and he tentatively takes that as permission not to hold back his own vocal reactions. She twines her hands in his hair, the way her fingernails gently scrape along the back of his neck having him practically growling.

Vaguely aware that his response is probably too strong, even if it weren't for what she just told him, the landlord means to at least slightly withdraw from her. Rather than gratefully moving away as well, however, she leans closer to him, pressing her torso against his.

"Do you want to stop?" she asks, sounding rather disappointed at that prospect, to his delight.

"No," he smiles, happily moving closer to her again.

"Neither do I," she murmurs, pressing her lips to his once more.

Their kiss is slower this time, deeper. Very happy to let her set the pace, Mr. Gold carefully mimics her actions as they wordlessly establish that she would like him to touch her in the same way she caresses him.

He can scarcely believe that any of this is truly happening, that her initial apparent lack of interest in him has nothing to do with  _this_. He can barely take in the bliss of kissing and touching her, but he figures that he doesn't have to focus on analyzing and memorizing as much of this as he can.

After all, the landlord is increasingly certain that this will hardly be the only time that they get to explore each other like this. That's how he finds himself able to surrender to the joy of the moment, basking in her taste and warmth.

Her hands roam over his back while his are lingering on her sides, their thighs pressing together as they continue to sit on the bench with as little space between them as humanly possible. He sighs and smiles in utter rapture as Belle becomes yet more enthusiastic with each passing minute.

Then again, it turns out that there's a downside to feeling her warm and soft body against his own, to kissing her so thoroughly. One particular, increasingly prominent part of his anatomy is taking a great interest in these proceedings.

He was afraid of becoming pathetically aroused in her presence long, long before they established their desires and feelings. That has hardly changed now that he doesn't exactly know yet what she may be uncomfortable with in such situations.

"Sweetheart…" he begins, after ending their kiss with some reluctance.

"Yes, we should probably catch our breath," she says cheerfully, resting her forehead against his, her eyes still closed.

"It's not that. I thought you should be aware that…"

Her eyes open and he pointedly looks down at his lap, tensing as she does the same. Scaring her by either his reaction itself or the ease with which it occurred is the last thing he wants.

"Oh," she says, her face turning a brighter shade of red. "Just from kissing?"

The landlord almost cringes in embarrassment at her words, but then relaxes when she merely looks from his face to the evidence of his arousal and back up again with apparent curiosity. There's no judgment, mockery or disgust in her expression.

"Yes," he murmurs, chuckling a little. "But the way I see it, there's nothing 'just' about these kisses… or the woman I'm sharing them with."

"I like your way of thinking," she beams, winking at him as she places her hand on his knee.

"How does this make you feel?" he asks, the mere sight and feeling of her palm and fingers at that spot having him twitching.

"It doesn't really do anything to me, except make me happy that you seem to enjoy this so much."

Utterly convinced as he was that his desire for her could only ever be met with mortification and revulsion, her response is a sheer blessing.

"I  _very_ much enjoy it," he replies, feeling his face grow hotter yet.

"We seem to be doing rather well at making each other feel good," she remarks, sounding rather giddy.

"Indeed," he smiles, still barely able to comprehend that their feelings are much more similar than he could ever have thought.

"So what now?"

"Let's have dinner tonight?"

"I'd really like that. With candles and romantic music this time?"

"That would be  _wonderful_ ," he murmurs, beyond thrilled that she should suggest the exact thing he has been dreaming of for months.

"What about this?" she asks rather sheepishly, glancing back at his lap.

"It will pass," he replies, his expression probably rather similar. "If we could keep sitting here for a little while…"

"Of course. We can get started on dinner as soon as we get back to your home. And after that… I was thinking…"

"What were you thinking?" he rasps, his mind racing at the implications of her rather eager tone.

"I can spend the night over, if you like? Sleep in your bed? I've dreamed quite a lot of being held by you and waking up next to you."

"If you start saying things like this, we may have to stay here for quite some time," he responds rather hoarsely, glancing meaningfully back at his lap, as he wants her to be aware of the impact she has on him. "Even imagining being in the same bed as you…"

"We're in no hurry, are we?" she asks playfully, relieving him by not seeming deterred by his implicit warning of what having her in his bed will probably do to him. "As long as you don't mind…"

"I very much don't," he replies, questioningly wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"Thank you for figuring this out with me," she says, immediately snuggling against him and resting her head on his shoulder. "And being so patient and understanding."

"It's my honor, sweetheart. And thank you for being so patient and understanding with  _me_."

"It's my honor," she simply repeats, locking her arms behind his neck.

Having her in his life in any romantic capacity is a blessing in its own right, so much more than he could ever have hoped for. And as for anything beyond that… well, Gold is very happy to find out with her whatever the future may hold.


	2. Gold

Belle may have gotten the ever so enigmatic landlord to have a candlelit dinner with her in the privacy of her own home, but she isn't any closer to finding out whether he returns her feelings for him. If anything, she's only become more confused about the nature of their relationship.

On the one hand, Rum has been as lovely towards her as always, and didn't object in the slightest to the relatively intimate nature of their meal. In fact, she likes to think that there is a sort of anticipation on his face, albeit not so obvious as her own. More than once, he looks at her with such tenderness and appreciation that she wants to haul him over the table by his tie and kiss him until they're both breathless.

On the other hand, however, he didn't glance even  _once_ at the particularly revealing and—if she says so herself—rather sexy dress she selected especially for tonight, with Ruby's help. In fact, there is no sign whatsoever that it takes him any effort at all to prevent himself from glancing at her legs and chest.

No matter how much Belle likes the way he always acts so gentlemanly, treating her like a queen, she has found that there comes a point where she would very much like him to be considerably more forward with her.

She may have thought that her former fiancé's possessiveness and boldness would be more than enough for a lifetime, but now, the librarian can only wish that this man she truly desires would go as far as to touch her in any remotely physical manner. Not to mention grab her for a fierce kiss and… well,  _more_.

Any hints as to how open she is to any of that are met with uncomfortable shuffling and throat-clearing. She can take a hint, really—and she would have, ages ago, if he didn't keep looking at her with such longing when he thinks she won't catch him, his gaze drifting to her lips every once in a while.

He insists on washing the dishes when their meal has come to a gradual end, and Belle can't take it any longer. His leaving amicably would have been one thing, but to see him in her tiny kitchen with his arms up to his elbows in soapy water, his suit jacket and even his tie discarded for once…

Dropping her dish towel on the table after she has put the dried plates back into the cupboard, she can't restrain herself for one more minute. Trying not to get entirely carried away by the manner in which his tailored clothing clings to the back of his body, she goes to stand right behind him.

For all their conversations and walks, she has never been quite this close to him. His heat is tangible, and the scent of his cologne fills her nose. Breathing in deeply, Belle places her hands on his upper arms, questioningly leaning the front of her body against the back of his.

Rum tenses at their sudden nearness. But before she has to conclude once and for all that he truly doesn't want anything such as this, he relaxes a little, going as far as to slightly angle his body backwards and into hers.

Heady with excitement, with  _him_ , she tentatively strokes his arms, marveling at the way he undeniably leans into her embrace. He doesn't say anything, doesn't declare his love and lust like she couldn't help but hope he would, but it doesn't matter for now.

Belle presses her face against his neck, appreciatively brushing her nose against his previously so untouchable skin. He lets out a soft sound of what can only be enjoyment, prompting her to press her lips against his skin as well.

"Is this all right?" she asks, knowing only too well how large even such a chaste step is for them.

"More than all right," he replies, sounding deliciously hoarse.

Giggling in delight and relief, she tightens her hold on him, smiling yet more broadly when he shifts further into the embrace.

"I really, really like you," she dares to add, kissing her way along the side of his neck.

"I really,  _really_  like you as…"

His response turns into a groan of sorts, increasingly unintelligible, but she understands him perfectly regardless. Especially when he turns around in her arms so he can place his hands on her waist.

The landlord's touch is almost reverent, ever so careful, making her yet hungrier for him. But he's blushing already, looking practically  _shy_ , tempering her more… enthusiastic ideas for the moment.

Unsurprisingly, it turns out to be just as lovely to press her lips lightly against his, making certain that he is amenable to all of this. The way he kisses her back is questioning to say the least, not nearly as passionate as she hoped, but his sighing her name against her mouth finally obliterates any last lingering doubt about his reciprocation.

Unable to hold back any longer at this unspoken confirmation, Belle kisses him more firmly, trying to coax his lips open. The landlord's knees appearing to be getting as weak as her own, they stumble across the kitchen. Almost immediately, her rear ends up against the edge of what must be the kitchen table.

Barely thinking straight any longer as she tastes the man she loves for the first time, she hops onto the piece of furniture behind her. Without giving it a second thought, she spreads her legs and eagerly pulls him forward to stand between them.

"Sweetheart, no…" he brings out, abruptly stepping away from her.

Chest heaving and face flushed, her first instinct is to smile and tug him back into her, more happiness coursing through her at the way he is addressing her. But the shock in his eyes has nothing to do with the sort of reluctance she assumed, and she quickly lets go of him entirely.

"What's wrong?"

She was more than prepared to let the so adorably old-fashioned and unassuming man know just how much she is looking forward to having his hands—and, preferably, more parts of his anatomy—all over her. But she has no idea what to think of  _this_.

"I'm so sorry, Belle. I don't want to disappoint you, but this… it's too much. I hoped that it wouldn't be, that I wouldn't mind doing this, but…"

He trails off miserably, lowering his head.

"You regret kissing me?" she asks, crestfallen. "You don't like me this way?"

"No, it's not that," he says hastily, "not entirely, at least."

"Then what  _is_ it?" she pushes gently, only more confused.

"That was all right, more than all right," he reassures her, gesturing in the general direction of the sink, where they shared that first, tender kiss. "But this is…"

Without quite looking at her, he moves to point at her current position on the kitchen table, her skirt hiked up to her waist to reveal a glimpse of hopefully appealing panties. Having rather failed in this particular regard, although she doesn't understand how or why, she quickly smooths the fabric down her legs.

"Why don't we sit down—in different seats, if you prefer—and you tell me what's going on?"

"I wouldn't mind sitting next to you, not at all," he responds, offering her his hand to help her back onto the floor, "and I'd be more than happy to talk to you."

Feeling a bit better already, she makes certain to keep her distance when they settle side by side on the couch in her living room.

"I love you, Belle," he simply says as he turns towards her.

Although she would have imagined such a declaration to be a happy ending in its own right before, it's only a beginning now, and not necessarily a delightful one at all if the tense look on his face is any indication.

"I love you too," she answers, too caught up by the way his expression hardly becomes more cheerful at those words at all to appreciate how easy it turns out to actually say them.

"I love you," he repeats, not looking any more relaxed now that she has expressed exactly the same sentiment. "But I don't  _want_ you, don't want to be… physically intimate with you, that is. Not the way you seem to want me."

"Is that why you have been so reluctant around me?" she asks, realization welling up inside of her.

"Indeed."

"So what are you saying?"

Belle already senses the answer, but she has to hear him say it, doesn't want any more misunderstandings between them. After all, she has already spent far too long mistaking his behavior, now that it's becoming clear that he seems to want  _her_ , but not actually  _want_ her.

"I don't like women this way," he murmurs, his voice so soft that she can barely hear it as he lowers his gaze. "I mean, I don't like  _anyone_ this way. But I do really enjoy being with you… being held by you and kissing you. Just not… just not the rest. What you clearly do want."

"I've read about that," she replies, carefully reaching for his hand.

"You have?" he gasps, clearly wholly surprised that there's actually anything to read on this particular topic, let alone that she is still accepting him like this.

"You're not attracted to me sexually," she offers, squeezing his hand lightly in encouragement.

"I'm not. Even though you're so beautiful that I can't put it into words, no matter how much I try."

"But you  _are_ attracted to me romantically."

"More than I can ever tell you," he breathes, taking her hand in both his own.

"Well, I'm also very attracted to you romantically, so that's a good starting point, don't you agree? I feared that you didn't want to be in any sort of romantic or sexual relationship with me at all."

He nods, still holding her hand in his as he tentatively smiles at her. She beams back, thrilled that they've at least reached this point together. Now that she can think somewhat clearly again, she isn't entirely surprised by this revelation, and wishes she had explored this sooner.

"I can't imagine anything more wonderful than sharing a life with you, sweetheart. Cuddling with you, waking up next to you,  _kissing_ you… Just not… I hoped that it would be different with you. But no matter how much I like you, how much I  _love_ you… I don't desire you that way."

She shifts closer to him, convinced that they've created a very solid foundation for their relationship from here on. Although it may not be one of the exact type she longed for, it's considerably better than what she expected would actually be possible between the two of them.

But to her renewed surprise, he shifts away from her, letting go of her hand and looking away again.

"I appreciate your kindness, Belle. But I know it only too well… women don't want men who don't make them feel very good on a very regular basis."

"Did your ex-wife tell you that?" she asks, her heart sinking as she begins to see what he has been led to believe for a very long time.

"She did, with considerable frequency," he mutters, further confirming her opinion of the woman he mentions with clear discomfort every once in a while.

"Oh Rum, there are so many different ways of feeling good together."

"But only one that truly matters in the end."

"That's not true. Maybe for some people, but not me."

"But you can't possibly… you can't be saying that you don't  _mind_?"

"I'll admit that this isn't what I was hoping for for the two of us, but don't forget that for a long time, I thought that you weren't interested in me at all. This is already so much better than that. To me, being with you in a way that we're both comfortable with is the most important thing."

To her relief, he gives her one of those rare, beautiful small smiles of his. It reminds her of why she was so reluctant to do anything at all to compromise their friendship herself, no matter how much she craved a considerably more physical relationship with him. Just being with him like this is lovelier than anything else could be. Especially when he shifts closer, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her lightly against his side when she nods in encouragement.

"For the sake of transparency, I  _do_ desire you very much, and I would very much like to have sex with you," she continues, resting her head on his shoulder. "But let's just say that I've been managing just fine on my own in that particular regard so far, and I dare to assume that you wouldn't object to me enjoying myself with some electronic help and my fantasies of you when you're not around."

"Indeed not," he murmurs, sounding rather choked by this prospect—but not in a necessarily unpleasant way. "For the sake of further transparency on my side… I've never truly considered what I do and don't like. I figured that it doesn't matter. But talking like this… there might be things that I  _could_ enjoy. Things that wouldn't involve… mingling fluids and penetrating body parts. I suddenly find myself thinking that perhaps it would be rather… nice to  _watch_  you enjoy yourself."

"Why don't we find out one day?" she breathes, this prospect alone arousing her more than any other man ever has.

One door may have been closed, but an equally intriguing one has opened at the same time. The notion of exploring all this with Rum is better yet.

"Yes, one day," he repeats, looking like an invisible load has been lifted off his shoulders.

"As for now, I'd like to find out  _exactly_ what you like when it comes to cuddling, platonic bed-sharing and kissing."

"I'd be delighted to do that as well," he agrees, the enchantment with which he looks at her having her heart overflowing with yet more love for him. "And of course, I'm  _very_ curious what your preferences are when it comes to those things."

"Let's figure this out together."


End file.
